


Battle Angels

by virvatulilla



Series: Short stories about wings [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virvatulilla/pseuds/virvatulilla
Summary: Story about a girl who always wanted to fly. Sci-fi setting





	Battle Angels

****I

 

“You can send your applications forward. The results come in two hours,” the instructor said after a long wait. I had been ready for half an hour. Zery, who was sitting diagonally in front of me, was still writing the last part of the application with their fingers in a blur. They were the last to send their application forward, only after that we were dismissed.

“What training programs did you apply to?” I asked Zery as we walked to the train station. Today had been our last day in a regular school, since after their seventeenth birthday all residents of our country could apply to a new academy for further education. The applications were sent once a week, and me and Zery had been born on the same week.

Zery shrugged. “I put an application forward to thirteen different research facilities,” they lauged. “I'll go wherever they want me.”

My friend didn't mention the possibility everyone was afraid of. If you couldn't get into further education, you were dropped into a lower class. I didn't know anyone who would have experienced that, but there were always rumors. Both of us had belonged to class 2 since birth, so we were close to the highest class, but we weren't exactly high-ups. Zery, the wiser one, belonged already to class 2.1, but was aiming even higher.

“Where did you apply to?” Zery asked as we boarded the train. I thougt about lying for a moment, but it didn't feel fair towards my friend. Because of my choice we wouldn't likely see each other ever again. I glanced around me to be sure that there wasn't anyone besides us in the compartment. I gestured Zery to lean closer.

“The army,” I whispered.

“The army!?” Zery exclaimed so that a couple of the passengers sitting on the other side of the glass wall turned their heads towards us.

“Shh,” I said sharply. “I didn't apply to any basic position in the army.”

“Then what?” Zery asked sharply. “The army is the army whatever section you are in.”

”No it's not,” I protested. “I've looked into things.”

“Well, what is it, miss know-it-all? You're just going to the front lines to die.”

“No I'm not,” I argued. “I applied to be a battle angel.”

Zery's jaw dropped. “You?” they said after a while. “Well, where are you going to go when they reject your application?”

I shrugged. “I didn't apply anywhere else.”

“ _What?_ ”

Color had faded from Zery's face. They grabbed both of my shoulders and looked me sternly in the eyes. “You are going to drop into class twenty, if you don't get into the place you applied to,” they said in a serious tone. “Why did you have to apply to be a battle angel? You could have picked any other academy that corresponds to your class. Everyone else wanting to be a battle angel are higher than second class, and they've probably had access to flying simulations as often as they like.”

I shrugged again. “It's the only thing that I want.”

“Why? Are you a complete numskull?”

“Otherwise I will never be able to fly.”

Zery sighed. “Here we go again.”

“Don't look at me like that, Zee,” I smiled. “Since I was five I've known that I have to fly. This is the only chance I'm ever going to get, and I'm ready to do anything in order to get in. If I won't become a battle angel, it doesn't matter what happens to me after that. I would rather die than not try because I supposedly don't have a chance to defeat an upper-class person in something.”

Zery stood up as the train started to slow down. “There's still one and a half hour until the results come in,” they said, giving me a worried look. “I hope you know that you have to answer right away if you get a place in the entrance exams? And you have to reserve this whole week for them. Call me as soon as you get the results. Deal?”

I stood up to hug Zery. “You too,” I said queitly. “Whatever happens, we're not going to meet face to face again.”

Zery nodded sadly. We didn't say anything as they got off the train and started walking towards their home. For over a year I had lived in just one station from Zery's home, and I had never liked going that distance alone. A thing even Zery didn't know was that I had already dropped into class 3.2 due to my grades dropping. The drop wasn't so big that I would have had to change shchool, but it was serious enough that my parents had sent me away from home. For me that was just one reason more to become a battle angel.

As I was waiting for the results at home I didn't know how to be. I pretended not to care, but I was terrified of the thought of not being a battle angel, but not because of the threat of falling into a lower class.

Eventually I went to knock on my neighbor's door. I lived in a cell apartment, where all kinds of young people who had been dropped into the top of third class lived. Laria opened the door almost immediately, and their freckled face burst into a smile when she saw me. “Waiting for the results?” They asked eagerly. “Me too. Come inside, I was just making tea.”

I closed the door behind me. Laria's room was colorful, and the only real piece of furniture was a small table in the middle of a colorful pillow sea. I sat down beside the table and accepted the cup Laria offered. Before meeting Laria I had never tasted tea, but after countless nightly visits I had grown fond of the warm drink.

“Well, the big question everyone asks,” Laria said, sitting opposite to me with a big tea cup in hand. “Where did you apply to?”

“To be a battle angel,” I muttered into my cup.

“Really?” Laria said, delighted. “I wish I had the courage to apply to a place like that. I only applied to a couple of artist educations.”

We chatted until the devices in our forearms beeped, as the results came in. I glanced nervously at Laria and nodded. Their eyes sparkled when they opened the display and started to read their results.

I carefully opened mine and started reading.

“What does it say?” Laria demanded in excitement. “I got in without an entrance exam!”

With shaky hands I turned the display towards Laria. “Entrance exam in an hour. You don't have to take anything with you,” Laria read aloud. “That's fantastic! Who did you bribe to get that result?”

“Nobody.” I was smiling from ear to ear. Both of us gave a affirmative answer right away. “Entrance exam in an hour,” I said, grinning, until I realized what it meant in practice. “In an hour! I have to leave now, or I won't make it!”

In my hurry I accidentally spilled all the tea on Laria's pillows, but they said it didn't matter, and told me to run in order to catch the next train.

 

II

 

“Major-general Nodier from the air force will oversee your flight tests,” announced a stern-faced soldier that had supervised our written exam on the first day. “Follow me.”

Me and four other candidates of the same age started following the golden ponytail of the soldier. In this apartment I had clearly noticed that all of us belonged to the highest classes. Almost everyone else but me had fair skin, which was common only amongst the first class, as well as fair, straight hair, height, and dark brown eyes. Normal, short citizens like me had brown skin, brown curly hair and lighter brown or green eyes. Because of these differences I still got looks as if I was a refugee – or actually it was the way upper-class people look at lower-class people. I confess I have been guilty of giving people that look as well.

The soldier with golden ponytail led us out of the building, past the runways for fighter aircrafts, and further to the hover plane areas. There, waiting for us was a dark-skinned woman dressed in a stiff, blue coat. The upper-class girls looked through her like she hadn't even existed, but the soldier that had led us to the area, saluted her. “These are the last candidates,” the soldier said stiffly.

“At ease, soldier,” major-general Noder said, and gestured the soldier to leave. Then she turned the gaze of her piercingly blue eyes towards the five of us, and a slightly derisive smile tightened the corners of her mouth. “Form a row!” she shouted. We obeyed at once, and the major-general started striding along the row, looking closely at each of us.

“You didn't seem to know that a major-general can also be a person from a lower class,” major-general Nodier said as she was measuring the first people in the row. Their expressions had been worth a look when they had realized the brown woman was the major-general.

“In the army it doesn't matter, who you are,” the major-general continued. “Highest or lowest class, all lost lives are worth the same. Despite this there seems to be an assumption that only people from the highest classes could lead the army or become a battle angel.” The major-general stopped in front of me and looked at me for a long time. “Of course, not everyone wants to do the things others expect of them,” she said, still looking at me. “Let's see what you all are made of. Follow me.”

The major-general led us to the warehouse that was close to the hover plane area. As the doors opened I held my breath. Inside I could see battle angel suits in neat rows – and the wings. If all of that hadn't been behind complicated-looking locks, I would have went and put wings on my back immediately.

“Switch into these,” the major-general commanded, pushing int the last safety code in the wall of the suit compartment. The door slid open with a hiss, and five suits slid forward from the lines. “Take your own one. There are no locker rooms, you will change here. Take off all of your other clothes,” the major-general instructed.

The others blushed from the thought of having to be naked in front of other people, but I was so excited of being so close to a chance to fly, that I couldn't have cared less. I walked to my suit swiftly and took off my clothes. As I was putting the suit on I saw that there was my last name “GENDE” on the shoulder with slightly glowing letters.

I put on the skin-tight and wet suit-like suit quickly, as if I was afraid it would disappear if I didn't put it on fast enough. In addition to it the suit was made of long boots, gloves and a headgear that largely resembled a helmet, but didn't quite correspond to my idea of a helmet. When the five of us had gotten dressed, the major-general frowned at us for a while. Then she nodded and beckoned us to follow.

The soles of the boots hardly made any sound on the hard floor as we were lead into the research room attached to the warehouse. There were all kinds of tubes and sensors attached to our suits, each measuring something. Then we were escorted through several different flying simulations. This part of the exam was probably “verifying physical suitability”, that I had read about when studying for the battle angel entrance exam.

Two of the upper class people didn't pass the test. Their expressions were gloomy when it was explained to them. I heard a part of the other conversation by an accident, and I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. They would be placed somewhere else, not a lower class, but an alternative position in the air force.

 _Apparently the highest class has privileges also in these things_ , I thought as I was going to sleep that night. We hadn't still actually had the chance to fly, even though the flying simulations had been close. But not close enough for me.

The next morning we were woken by the same soldier who lead us again to the edge of that same hover plane area, where the major-general was waiting for us. There were only three of us left. Our old clothes had been taken away, and we only had the suits we had been given the previous day. “This is the last day of your exams,” major-general Nodier said, pacing back and forth in front of us. “We hope that this year at least one of you will survive this day. You will fly in real life. As a warning it is different than in a simulation. Follow me.”

This time the security measures were even more complicated than with the suit compartment. The wings were clearly more valuable than the suits, and there also were less of them. As the machine managed the major-general's instructions my gaze was drawn towards a pair of big, white wings in their own storage space separate from the other pairs of wings. Out of burning curiosity I asked the major-general what was the purpose of those wings.

The major-general looked at me with an inquisitive look in her eyes. “Those are the wings of the archangel,” she explained. “Only the general of the battle angels gets to wear those, and that position is regrettably open. The previous archangel got killed in battle two weeks ago, and there hasn't been anyone to fill that position yet. Each position has different coloured wings, byt the way. But here, you have personal wings just like you have personal suits as well.”

There were three pairs of folded wings in front of us. They had a beautiful, metal gray sheen. The attaching system was built in a way that it would have been impossible to use them without the suit. The suit provided a small amount of power into the wings, which ensured that only a few chosen ones could fly with them. I lifted the heavy-looking pair from the rack and was surprised of how light they were. When I got them properly on my back I felt like I had finally become myself. This was what I was meant to be. I should have been born with wings on my back.

The three of us stood in a line in front of major-general Nodier. She looked at us a speck of pride in the corner of her eye. I was in the middle. On the shoulder of the girl with orange hair standing on my left side was the name “MALERAN”, and on the shoulder of the girl on my righ side was the name “CAMOTHE”. The major-general looked at each of us in turn and sighed. “I truly hope there won't be accidents today,” she said. “You are definitely the best candidates this year. This time of year there are a lot of candidates, and only a select few get to this point, and nobody can replace you. Good luck and fly well.”

The slightly grim words of the major-general couldn't diminish the blazing flame in me as we were escorted to the hover plane area. “In theory it's simple,” the major-general explained when we were standing on the side of the flat area. “You will fly straight up from there and circle down, landing in the middle. If anyone intervenes, both of those performances will be rejected. For now, the order is based on your class value – candidate Maleran, if you please.”

There was not an ounce of the exitement I was feeling on Maleran's face, as she walked stiffly to the center of the area. Her hands in tight fists she stood on the center of the cross that marked the middle of the area. From the corner of my eye I saw the major-general biting her thumbnail.

The departure towards the clear sky was a perfect performance from Maleran, but then something went wrong. I didn't saw her spread her wings at all, only to start falling. I would have wanted to do something, to fly to her in order to prevent anything from happening, but a quick glance at the major-general made me stay on the ground. Despite a chance of being brave and saving the day, there was nothing more important to me than becoming a battle angel.

When Maleran hit the ground and stayed there dead still, regret from my recent thoughts hit me. The major-general ran to the girl, and I could only think of her shaking hands pressed into fists and that I could have been able to save her should I have acted.

From the major-general's orders Maleran's motionless body was carried away from the area by paramedics. The major-general walked to us with a gloomy expression. “She will survive,” where her only words to me and Camothe. Both of us gave a relieved sigh. “Are we still flying in the same order?” I asked.

The major-general glanced at Camothe, who had turned paler than she already was, and shook her head. “Maybe it's better for you to fly first, Gende,” she said and gestured me to walk towards the center of the area.

I walked to the center. My hands were completely steady, but my feet were trying to give up. Despite that I managed to walk to the cross without making a scene. As I was standing there a strange calm came over me. I closed my eyes and raised my face towards the clear sky. The wings on my back were attached through sensors in the helmet into my brain so that I could maneuver them as if they had always been a part of me. There didn't have to be a specific thought to start the engine, only a signal from my brain for the wings to move was enough.

 _The major-general was right_ , I noticed I was thinking as I was raising towards the sky. Flying really was different than in a simulation. I felt the sunlight on my skin, and the air resistance with my whole body as I was rising higher. When I was high enough I spread my wings. I did it without thinking about it much, and started circling the landing area in a big downward spiral, as ordered. As I was descending slowly I started wondering that maybe Maleran had been thinking too much. After all, walking would be harder as well if you had to think about each step before you took it.

I landed on the cross in the middle of the landing area and walked to the place where I had stood. Major-general Nodier gave me a smile, and gestured Camothe to do what I had done. She didn't look as pale now as she had looked after Maleran's failed flight.

Camothe's first flight went well, and she landed smoothly. We stood next to each other in front of the major-general as she put a hand on each one's shoulder. “Congratulations to the both of you,” she said with a smile. “As is customary with everyone that has passed the flight test, you're immediately promoted. You'll be getting new wings shortly.”

I looked at Camothe with a big smile, and for my small surprise the grin that she gave me could have been copied from Laria's face, but her eyes were glimmering like stars.  “ Thinda,” she said, extending a hand to me. I grabbed it, my smile getting wider.  “ Aon.”

 

III

 

My head was spinning and my ears ringing. I didn't know what kind of missile had hit me, but it had made me fall on the ground. That had never happened to me during my career.

Suddenly Thinda was next to me, folding her bluish wings. “Don't move,” she said, trying to cover the worry in her tone. A coughing fit shook my body, and I could taste blood. I looked at Thinda's serious face as she spoke with a stern tone to a field nurse that I should be escorted away from the battle. A gentle smile spread on my face on its own as I raised my fingers to brush Thinda's cheek.

“Didn't I tell you to not move,” Thinda snapped, but the tears in her eyes took away the edge in her voice.

I looked at Thinda with a question, and she shook her head. A shiver traveled through my body. With Thinda's help I could open my helmet and gasped for air as the smoke-filled air worked its way into my damaged lungs. I couldn't feel my legs, and I could hear the field nurse saying that it would be unlikely that I'd survive the hit this time. The sound was coming from somewhere far away. I tried to get up, but my hands gave up on me. I felt Thinda lifting me into her arms and I could see us raising into the air. I felt weightless, and I couldn't even move my wings.

“Aon,” Thinda said softly. I barely heard her voice, but I turned my head towards her blurry face. “You can't … because … you.” I couldn't understand all of her words anymore, but I understood the tone. This had to be a goodbye.

I raised my numb hand to Thinda's neck. “No revenge,” I whispered. “Live. Thinda – Thinda.” I wasn't sure if she'd understand me, but I couldn't form longer sentences neither with my lips nor in my head. My white wings raised up weakly, forming a momentarily wall between us and the world. My fingertips brushed Thinda's face, and I felt her pulling me close to her.

I fell into the darkness.

There were stars in her eyes.


End file.
